


Lance Does Not Have a Space Crush

by dramaq



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Hunk is a good friend, Lance (Voltron) in Denial, M/M, Rivals to Lovers, space everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaq/pseuds/dramaq
Summary: In which Lance totally doesn’t have a space crush and Hunk is definitely the worst best friend ever.





	1. Lance Does Not Have a Space Crush

Lance was pouting. To any casual onlooker, this would not be a particularly notable occurrence. Besides his trademark Smirking Sexy-face or his impressive eyebrow wag, the pout is a true Classic Lance Face, often played for comedic effect, irony, or pettiness. But today. TODAY. This was a real pout, because Lance was feeling Not Okay. So he went to the only place in the castle where his antics were ever taken seriously.

Lance loudly clamored into the kitchen where Hunk was diligently cooking and collapsed into a chair with a loud sigh. Initiate pout.

“Oh, hey Lance.” Hunk glanced back at the table, then did a double take. “Oh, dude, what’s wrong?”

There’s a reason Hunk was his best bro in the universe. Lance whined and gently connected his forehead with the table. In truth, he didn’t want advice or opinions, only sympathy.

“Okay, buddy.” Hunk seemed to understand. He gently patted the top of Lance’s hand. “Wanna come help me cook?”

Lance nodded miserably and joined Hunk at the counter. Hunk supplied Lance with a bunch of zucchini-shaped orange vegetables and instructed him to cut them thin, on an angle. Lance was no culinary genius like Hunk, but he’d grown up helping his Ma around the kitchen. Chopping vegetables was relaxing, meditative even. The two worked for a while in amicable silence, until the Not Okay feelings made their presence known once more, prodding deep in his gut. A heavy sigh escaped Lance’s lips. He tensed. He really hadn’t meant to do that. Coming from a big family, he kind of had to make his thoughts and feelings known or he’d never be noticed at all. It came as second nature to wear his emotions on his sleeve. Most of the time, it was a part of himself he liked and accepted, but sometimes he worried he was pushing his problems onto others, especially Hunk.

“You wanna talk?”

Lance’s hands stilled. He was out of orange zucchini.

“If this is about that weird blue presence thing on Belcharr, I promise I’m not over that either.”

Lance snorted lightly. “That thing will always have a special place in my nightmares, but… it’s not that.” He rubbed one of the slices between his thumb and forefinger. The insides of the vegetable felt colder than the outside… and oddly slimy. He pulled his fingers away and examined his fingers. They were covered in a thin film of a clear substance. He grimaced. It always astounded him that Hunk’s stomach would turn inside out at literally anything _unless_ it was somehow edible.

“Homesick?” Hunk prompted.

Something twinged in Lance’s chest, but no, that was a constant ache, but more manageable now. Certainly not the concern of the day. “No… it’s really not a big deal, Hunk,” he mumbled.

Hunk took Lance’s pile of chopped slimy veggies and added them to his large steaming pot. “Watch the pot,” he instructed, passing Lance a large spoon. They traded places; Lance stirred the pot, while Hunk began to chop.

“Look it’s…” Lance huffed. “It’s stupid, okay? I don’t even know why I’m upset, because it was really nothing. No big deal-i-o.”

“It’s okay if you don’t know exactly what’s wrong…” Hunk ventured. “We’re dealing with a lot out here.”

Lance sighed. “It’s just like… sometimes words can just creep inside your skin and make you have _feelings_ that are supposed to be super straightforward normal feelings but somehow get mixed up? And then you can’t get them out? I don’t know…”

“Oh thank goodness,” Hunk breathed without a hint of sarcasm. Lance turned, and the snappy half-formed retort on his lips fell away when he saw Hunk’s genuine smile. “It’s just about Keith.”

Lance glared at his friend and turned back to the pot. “I mean, _yes,_ it’s something Keith said, but what… what is that supposed to mean?” he sputtered. He felt his face growing hot and he blamed it on the steam. The weird potent space steam that… actually was starting smell pretty good. Lance licked his lips, momentarily distracted. It was kind of like a paella. Did that mean the weird vegetable he chopped was actually mimicking sausage?

“Sorry,” Hunk sounded like he was holding back a laugh. “It’s just that your space crush thing is easier to deal with than the trauma of war, fear of our impending deaths, or the vastness of the universe.”

“It is _not_ easier to deal with!” Lance snapped. His hand froze mid stir. “I mean, I do _not_ have a space crush!”

“It’s cause we’re in space, Lance! I thought you liked adding ‘space’ to everything.” Hunk grabbed the spoon out of Lance’s hand, and held it up dramatically. “Space spoon.” He stirred the pot once, then brought a spoonful to his mouth to taste. “Space stew.” He licked his lips. “It needs more space cumin.” He pointed to a small container filled with a light pink powder, and Lance sighed and fetched it for him. “It needs maybe two space tablespoons.” Hunk poured out some of the powder in slow, deliberate shakes. His tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth as he eyeballed it. He passed the container back to Lance and caught his shoulder just before he could turn away. Hunk looked meaningfully into Lance’s eyes. “Space best friend.” Lance rolled his eyes and smiled back before breaking off to put the spice container away. When Lance turned back he found Hunk pointing the spoon directly at him. “Space crush.”

“ _No_ , Hunk!” he moaned.

Hunk resumed puttering around the kitchen with the chipper of someone who’s won an argument, which, no. Lance slumped back into a chair and pressed his face into the table.

“Hey, I’m sorry, buddy.” Hunk patted him on the back, and Lance attempted to phase into the table. It didn’t work. “Do you want to talk about what happened with your space _rival_?”

Lance perked up, hastily shuffling unprocessed feeling to the back of his mind where they would _stay_. “Yes.” He lifted his head from the table and nodded curtly. “I finally beat the training bot on level four and Shiro was all like,” Lance sprung up and did his best Shiro impression, puffing out his chest dramatically “Nice job, Lance, you’re really improving. You’re a real asset to the team.”

Hunk beamed at him. “Shiro said that?”

“ _Right!?_ ” Lance splayed his arms wide.

“That’s amazing!”

“I _know_!” Lance met Hunks high five. “Anyway, we were having a moment. A moment, Hunk. With Shiro. Lance and Shiro, having a moment! Then Keith-” Lance paused to glare at a corner of the room. He imagined Keith there with his stupid face and his stupid sweaty workout clothes all wet and clinging to his stupid emo body. Looking at his stupid cool-ass alien knife. “ _Keith_ ,” he spat, “says ‘nice moves, Lance.’” He turned back to Hunk, awaiting his reaction.

Hunk tilted his head. “He complimented you?”

Lance threw up his hands in exasperation. “He was invading my moment, Hunk! He was probably just jealous that for once in his whole quiznaking life, Shiro was ignoring _him_ and watching _me_. And he just couldn’t handle that!”

Hunk looked worriedly at the pot as he stirred. “I think you’re making a lot of assumptions, Lance.”

“And _then_ ,” Lance continued, ignoring Hunk’s misguided input, “He goes, ‘was that level five? Cool.’” Lance paused for dramatic effect, and Hunk at least had the grace to cringe. “No of course it’s not level five! Who can do level five on solo?! That’s just…” he paused to gather himself, then slumped back down in the chair. “But of course Keith’s probably on like level 100.”

Lance felt Hunk’s comforting hand on his back, and he twisted to deliver his friend a particularly devastating pout.

“You know that close combat is Keith’s strength,” Hunk said gently. “You can’t expect to beat him at everything. Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses.”

Lance’s face crumpled. Nope. He wasn’t dealing with _those_ feelings right now. He pushed down the wave of crippling self doubt and pulled a weak smile out of quiznak knows where. “Well at least now you know it’s not a stupid space crush thing.”

Hunk sighed and gave Lance two solid back pats. “Lance, my buddy, my bro.” He walked back over to his steaming pot. “It’s still totally about your space crush.”

Lance sputtered. “ _Hunk_!”

“Okay, just hear me out!”

Lance crossed his arms petulantly but allowed Hunk to continue.

“Good,” Hunk sighed. “We’re going on a space mind journey. Now close your eyes.” Hunk waited for Lance to comply, then continued. “Now you’re back in the training room. Envision yourself back in the training room, okay? You just beat level four solo. Now feel your feelings.”

Lance cracked an eye open. “What?”

“Feel your feelings, Lance! After months of training, you did it! You beat level four!”

Lance allowed himself to smile, and his chest inflated with pride. Yeah, it had felt pretty amazing.

“Now you turn around and the only person watching you is Keith.”

Lance scrunched up his face. “Shiro was there.”

“Lance, this is my space mind journey, and I’m telling you that Keith is the only one there. Now feel your feelings.”

Lance sighed. His mind-Shiro vanished, and he imagined Keith leaning against the wall, just as he had been—still sweaty from his training sequence, his black shirt clinging to his skin. His dark bangs curled down into his eyes. He held his Galra blade in front of him, carefully twisting it, watching intently. His muscles flexed.

“Are you feeling your feelings?” Hunk prodded.

Imaginary Keith looked up from the blade and locked eyes with him, and he felt a shock of hot and cold all over. Lance nodded minutely. He maybe felt like throwing up. That was definitely the feeling.

“Okay,” Hunk continued. “Keith says, ‘Nice moves, Lance.’”

Lance grimaces.

“And he _means_ it,” Hunk insists.

Imagination Keith’s voice is low and sincere, and it sounds foreign to Lance. There’s no way Keith has ever actually complimented him before. There’s always an ulterior motive, always a… something. Lance’s face flushed hot and his skin crawled. 

“Now Keith says, ‘Was that level four? Cool.’”

Lance opened his mouth to protest.

“That’s what he says, and he’s completely sincere. Now feel your feelings.”

Lance felt like he wanted to die. No one else in the room but him and Keith. Keith, king of cool, telling him _he’s_ cool and… too many feelings. His stomach was tight and his face was burning and he was really, seriously going to throw up everywhere and maybe claw his skin off. That’s… nope. Imagination Lance ran out of the room.

“Okay. Open your eyes.” Lance opened his eyes and saw Hunk sitting in the chair across from him, his smile kind if a _little_ smug. “Anything you want to share, Lance? With your _best_ friend?”

Lance glared for a moment, then sighed resting his cheek in his palm. He was just too tired. And his heart was still beating too fast. He could feel the pulse in the space between his palm and his face. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not what happened. Keith’s always trying to one-up me and make me feel like he’s better than me but…” Lance’s eyes darted to the door and back. No one else here.

“But?” Hunk prompted.

“I really just want him to think I’m cool!”

Hunk opened his mouth, closed it again, then sighed. “You know what? Close enough. That’s progress.”

Lance pouted. “I don’t have a space crush.”

Hunk stood and ruffled Lance’s hair and laughed when Lance balked and pulled away. “Help me set the table? The others should be coming for dinner soon.”

“Okay…” Lance smoothed down his hair as best he could. He was twitching to run back to his room to check his hair in the mirror, but he resisted. He shuffled over to the cupboard. “I really don’t have a space crush, though.”

“Uh huh,” Hunk hummed.

“I don’t,” Lance insisted.

“I hear you, Lance.” Hunk clapped a hand on Lance’s shoulder and looked into his eyes. “I hear you, and I see you.”

“You,” Lance shook off Hunk’s hand, “are the _worst_ best friend ever.”

“Uh huh.” Hunk placed the last two sporks on the table then turned back to Lance. “Let’s just do one experiment, and then I’ll never mention it again.”

Lance raised an eyebrow, but honestly, he’d agreed to Hunk’s “experiments” with worse promised reward than that so… “Deal.” Lance grabbed a juice pouch and sat down in his seat.

“You will have a conversation with Keith, and you will accept everything he says at face value. You will continue the conversation under the assumption that everything he says is sincere.”

Lance snorted and shrugged. “He’s just going to think I’m stupid for not catching onto his subtext and double meaning, but _whatever._ ” Lance threw his hands in the air and a little juice spurted out of his pouch. “He thinks I’m stupid anyway.” Hunk looked like he was about to say something, so Lance cut him off. “Then no more saying I have a space crush.”

Hunk was clearly trying to keep the smug out of his smile, but he wasn’t succeeding. “Okay, Lance.”

As the paladins piled in for another meal (it really did taste like paella), Lance had to admit to himself that, if nothing else, he was feeling better about his space drama. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Keith who was eating his stupid food with his stupid mouth (ugh). Keith didn’t even care that he’d said something so horrible to Lance earlier. It didn’t even phase him. Just another day of Keith the asshole being better than Lance at something. Lance frowned into his food. At least now he had a plan. An experiment. A space experiment to disprove the hypothesis of the space crush. Lance snorted at his own private joke. Well if you set aside the whole terrifying expanse of nothingness thing and the it will literally kill you thing, space was pretty cool.


	2. Lance Might Have a Space Crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance might have a space crush

A few days passed before the experiment could take place. Between training, liberating a planet of weird photosynthetic lifeforms, and recovering from battle, Lance never really found the opportunity to have a real conversation with Keith. Sure, there were snide remarks, back-handed compliments, and short bouts of bickering when the whole team was present, but there was never time for the two of them to just… talk. Thinking back, Lance wasn’t sure he ever actually held a full conversation with the guy. But, for the sake of science, he had to try. Also Hunk was pestering him about it every chance he got, and Lance was a little worried someone might hear him going on about a “space crush.” It would probably be Pidge. Hunk was definitely the most inclined to nose his way into someone else’s business, but Pidge was a close second.

Lance slipped into the training room, and just as expected, there was Keith going at it with the training bot. Lance bitterly wondered what level the bot was at, but quickly squashed the feeling down. Not helpful. Time to interact with Keith like he’s just another human being and not an untouchable, half-alien, emo, warrior bad-boy. And also his rival with tragic hair, he reminded himself. That too.

Keith held his own against the training bot, meeting it blow for blow, but it was clear he was on the defensive. Keith was usually all about running in head-first, turning the tide as quickly as possible, but he was clearly exhausted. Lance was too; they all were. Allura had given them all the rest of the day to recover from battle and prepare for the big thank-you-for-saving-us festivities tomorrow, which were always draining in their own way.

Keith finally landed a fatal blow and the bot powered down. Keith threw his head back and buried his hands in his hair. The sounds of his panting echoed off the walls. His chest heaved. His bare arms glistened.

Lance’s mouth went dry. He struggled to swallow and shuffled in place. “Uh…”

Keith leapt into a defensive position.

Lance’s hands flew up. “Whoa, dude, it’s just me.”

Keith’s body sagged but his face remained tense. “What are you doing here, Lance?”

_Get out_ , Keith was saying, _No one wants you here. I don’t want you here_.

Lance poised to shoot back some remark about Keith hogging the training room or his personal hygiene or _something_ , but no. This was an experiment. And Hunk said he had to take Keith’s words at face value.

“I came to see how you’re doing,” Lance said instead. He watched Keith’s eyes widen in something like shock. “Uh… you know, like what’s up?”

Lance felt his face grow hot, and this, _this_ , was why he didn’t just have normal conversations with Keith. Because it made him awkward and stupid and unable to function like a person.

“Oh.” Keith shifted his weight from foot to foot, and Lance couldn’t decide whether he looked like a predator poised for attack or a toddler who needed to pee. Like always, he was somewhere on the line between lethal and adorable. Lance inwardly cringed at his own line of thought. Hunk could never know. “You’re not here to pick a fight with me over something stupid?”

Lance felt a flare of defensiveness, but he took a moment to pause and consider, and actually, that _was_ normally how he interacted with Keith. So fair. “Not unless you do something stupid.” He smirked.

Keith raised a brow. “You think everything I do is stupid.”

_Because it is_. No Lance, he reminded himself. We’re being civil for science. “Well not everything.” That was better. Hunk would be proud.

Keith seemed to accept this. “Spar with me.”

Lance took a small step back. “Dude, we’re supposed to be resting, remember? Big fight today? Rescued the princess from the tower?”

Keith smirked. “It was a prince, Lance.”

“Well how was I supposed to know? They had no outward signs of gender, Keith! It was confusing!”

“Well he was certainly confused when you kept bowing at him and calling him ‘My Lady.’”

Lance crossed his arms defensively. “Anyone would have made the same mistake.”

“Yet no one else did.”

Lance threw his hands up. “There were flowers, Keith!”

“They all had flowers.”

“But his were pretty, pink flowers!”

“Why would you think that photosynthetic beings from another planet would follow human gender norms?”

Lance was about to take another step forward when he realized their position. He had gravitated toward Keith and the two of them stood in the center of the room, close. He could see Keith’s long eyelashes. He could feel Keith’s hot breath on his skin. He could smell Keith’s sweat and musk. Whatever Lance was about to say got lost on the way between his brain and his lips… his lips which were very close to the tip of Keith’s nose.

This was normally where Lance would push Keith away and say something scathing about his appearance, or claim he was trying to get up in Lance’s face. But he had to give Keith the benefit of the doubt. Keith was smiling and his purple eyes shone bright, even though he should be exhausted. Maybe Keith was just teasing him like Hunk would, like as a friend.

“Uh… yeah,” Lance said quite eloquently.

Keith’s smile stretched wider. “That the best you can come up with?”

Lance felt the stirrings of anger, but no, Keith wasn’t really mocking him. This was a challenge, but nothing meant to threaten his dignity. “I still stand by my flirting.” Lance leaned in closer, and Keith’s eyes widened minutely. Perhaps he was just realizing how very close they were. “Anyone that pretty deserves a taste of the Lance Charm. Regardless of gender.”

Keith tilted his chin up. “I don’t think anyone deserves having that inflicted upon them.”

“Jealous?” Crap. That just slipped out. Lance felt the instinct to pull back, but he held firm, never one to back down from a challenge.

“You wish,” Keith breathed. His cheeks tinged a light shade of pink. Was Keith _blushing_?

Lance struggled to swallow, suddenly at a loss for words. How exactly had this happened? Was he flirting with Keith? He took inventory of his body, and yes, this was full flirting mode. He was flirting with Keith. Well. May as well go big or go home.

Lance smirked and winked, allowing a false sense of ego to flood his body. “Play your cards right, and maybe you’ll get a taste one day.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open and he froze, his cheeks canary red. It was almost comical.

Now for the final blow. Lance leaned in closer and murmured directly into Keith’s ear. “You that desperate for me, babe?”

He pulled back to examine Keith’s still-frozen face, and to cement the point, he wagged his eyebrows. Then Keith seemed to break. He staggered back, doubled over, clutching his stomach. Strange crying/gasping sounds filled the room. Lance took a tentative step forward, about to ask if Keith was okay, when Keith straightened up and threw his head back. It clicked into place. Keith was laughing. Keith was laughing at him.

Keith gasped and struggled to compose himself, wiping tears from his eyes. “You almost…” another shaky gasp. “You almost had me, Lance. Dude I thought…” he shook his head and wiped his arm across his whole face. “That was funny, seriously. For once, that was funny.” Keith slapped him on the shoulder, hard, and offered him a watery grin.

Lance knew he should feel offended or maybe hurt, but… Keith kind of looked like he was crying more than laughing now, and he felt… weird. Should he apologize? What would he be sorry for?

Keith gave his shoulder another pat and walked out of the room. “Later, dude,” he called over his shoulder, his voice raspy.

Lance stood for a moment or maybe several moments, rooted in place in the middle of the training room. Images of Keith flew through his mind. Keith training, Keith brooding, Keith fighting, Keith arguing, Keith curled in on himself in the corner of the room, pretending he didn’t want to be there yet unable to hide the ghost of a smile whenever someone brought up his name in conversation. Yeah, Lance maybe had a space crush. A very confusing space crush.

 

After checking Hunk’s room, the common room, then the kitchen, Lance finally found him in the workshop with Pidge.

“Wow,” he proclaimed as he strode in the room. “For once Allura instructs us to relax and literally no one knows how to chill.”

“We’re looking at the Rebeethian’s cells, Lance!” Pidge looked up from her microscope. “They do photosynthesize, but it’s a completely different mechanism from plants on Earth. And maybe that’s why they evolved differently! It’s so cool.” She looked back into the microscope, jotted something down on a notepad, then looked back up at Lance again. “And this is me chilling.”

“Sure, Pidgeotto,” Lance drawled. “That’s what all the kids do on Saturdays. Examine stuff with microscopes while they eat their fruit loops.” Pidge flipped him off without looking up from her notebook. Lance rolled his eyes and turned to Hunk. “Hey Hunk? I kind of need to talk to you.”

“‘Bout what?” Hunk kept his eyes on whatever thing he was tinkering with. Something with gears.

“You know…” He shifted weight awkwardly, eyes flickering over to Pidge. “The thing? The thing we talked about?”

Hunk’s eyes widened and he put down his gear thing. “Oh! You finally did it!”

“Yeah, so can we uh…” he glanced back at the door.

Pidge looked up at him with an evil grin. “Is this about your space crush?”

Lance gasped, and he whirled toward Hunk. “You _told_ her???”

Hunk at least had the grace to look properly ashamed. “She’s very perceptive!” he whined. “And persistent!”

Pidge showed no such remorse. “I can always tell when he’s keeping a secret.”

“ _My_ secret,” Lance huffed.

Hunk’s eyes widened. “Does that mean-”

“Hey! Just… just let me tell my story okay? Let me _process_.” He pulled up a chair to the table and collapsed into it in a dramatic sprawl. “Guys. I think Keith is the most confusing and misleading dude in the entire universe.”

Hunk and Pidge shared an excited look then leaned forward, the picture of an enraptured audience. “Go on dude!” Hunk encouraged.

“Spill, lover boy!” Pidge chimed in.

Well the subject matter may be embarrassing, but Lance did love being the center of attention, and he perked up. “So. I talked to Keith and pretended he wasn’t out to get me at every turn. It felt so real, and it actually started to make sense. When I didn’t insult him, he didn’t insult me, so I’m thinking, maybe he’s really not a dick twenty-four-seven? Maybe he’s just a part time dick like the rest of us? And we were kind of fighting, but it wasn’t serious, it was just like, banter? And it seemed like he liked talking to me. And I liked talking to him. So then I flirted with him, and-”

Hunk gasped and his hand shot up in the air.

Lance sighed like a put-upon teacher. “Yes, Hunk?”

“So the moment you realized Keith doesn’t actually hate you and isn’t trying to put you down you immediately start flirting with him?”

Lance considered, slowly turning the conversation with Keith over in his head. “…yes.”

Hunk grinned giddily and Pidge looked downright ecstatic. Hunk waved his hands in front of him. “No, no, do go on!”

Lance grimaced. “Well as I was _saying_ , I started flirting with him, just because, it felt like the right thing to do in the moment. I don’t know, it just kind of happened. And at first Keith seemed pretty receptive.” Pidge whispered something to Hunk, and Hunk snickered. Lance slapped the table. “Pay attention, class!”

“Sorry!” Pidge grinned back at him.

Lance glared at her before returning to the story. “But then he started laughing. He was just.. dying laughing at me! Tears streaming down his face and everything! And then it was weird, and then he left, and _why didn’t he take my flirting seriously_?” He threw his hands up in the air. “I’m literally an expert flirter. Years of experience. And he laughed in my face!” Hunk was practically vibrating in his seat, and Lance sighed. “Okay, I’m done. Go ahead, Hunk.”

“You _do_ have a space crush!” Hunk high-fived Pidge.

Lance groaned. “We’re moving past that now, Hunk! Keep up! Why did he laugh at me?”

“Just let me gloat!”

Lance scowled. “And it isn’t a space crush,” he said, mostly for the sake of denying Hunk his ‘I told you so’ moment. “It’s a space… confused flirting mission,” he tried.

“That sounds terrible,” Pidge quipped.

Lance squirmed in his chair. “Are you guys gonna help me or not?” he whined.

Pidge crossed her legs and tapped her chin. “Well first we need to establish what you want to get out of flirting with Keith.”

Lance’s face flushed hot. Those words sounded so strange arranged together like that, hanging in the air. _Want_ and _flirting_ and _Keith_. This felt way too personal to be discussing with two other people in a workshop. It was as if he was an object to be examined and prodded and designed. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, in his throat, in his ears. He felt his fingers twitching, shaking, and he balled his hands into tight fists.

“Hey, hey, Lance, it’s okay.” Hunk scooted his chair closer and covered Lance’s hands with his own larger ones. “I mean… it’s definitely kind of funny that you want to flirt with your self-proclaimed rival, you can see that right? But we’re not judging you.” He massaged Lance’s hands open, and Lance felt himself relax a little. His mouth still tasted like cotton. “We always kind of knew you liked Keith, so we’re not surprised, we support you, and we want to help you.”

“Hunk wanted to push you into it much sooner,” Pidge chimed in. “But I told him you’d freak out. Like right now. How you’re freaking out right now.”

“Pidge,” Hunk hissed.

“No, it’s okay.” Lance squeezed Hunk’s hands in thanks and pulled back. “It’s just that he hates me, and I think I made him cry.”

Pidge and Hunk shared a look. “Okay when did that happen?” Hunk asked.

“When he was laughing at me, he just kind of started crying. It was weird. I couldn’t really tell if he was laughing or crying, and he tried to hide it, but I could tell something was off.” Hunk and Pidge gazed at each other meaningfully once more, and Hunk looked like _he_ was about to cry. “Guys, stop telepathically communicating, and tell me what’s up!”

“Buddy,” Hunk rubbed Lance’s knee. “Try to see this from Keith’s perspective. Up until now you’ve done nothing but antagonize him. Then all of a sudden, right after you start being nice to him, you start flirting with him. What’s he supposed to think?”

Lance’s eyes widened. “That I’m making fun of him?”

“Ding ding ding!” called Pidge.

Hunk patted his knee. “Don’t worry. If you continue treating him like a real person, he’ll eventually accept that you like him.” Lance opened his mouth in protest. “And don’t you dare say you don’t have a space crush.”

Lance crossed his arms defensively. “I _maybe_ have a space crush.”

Hunk turned to Pidge and shrugged. “Progress.”

“I’ll take it,” Pidge agreed.

Lance groaned and stood up. “Okay, I need my beauty sleep. Gotta look fresh at the party tomorrow.”

Hunk nodded. “I’m proud of you for feeling your feelings, Lance.”

Lance hummed noncommittally in response, then nodded his head toward Pidge. “Don’t let her stay up too late.”

“Gotcha.” Hunk gave him a thumbs up.

“Hey!” Pidge protested. “I don’t need to be babysat!”

“Night guys,” Lance called over his shoulder, and his two friends responded.

Lance turned the evening over in his head as he made his way down the hallway. He’d definitely enjoyed flirting with Keith. He thought about the way his purple eyes shone, the color of his cheeks, the way his lips had parted in shock. And yeah, it made Lance feel feelings. Many confusing feelings. Feelings that were stirring and heating up in his gut right now. Lance pulled at his hair in frustration then took a deep breath. This didn’t have to be a big deal. Lance liked flirting with everyone. It was kind of his thing. Now he just had a new focus for his flirtations, and there was nothing weird about it at all. Pidge and Hunk already knew. Shiro might want to beat him up, but he’d resist for the sake of teamwork. Coran and Allura might not even understand what was going on. This could be a new personal challenge. Flirt the pants off of Keith and hope that he’ll actually flirt the pants off of Keith… or something.

Lance clipped the wall as he turned onto his hallway. He glanced around, and nobody had seen. But Lance really needed to get ahold of himself if he wanted anyone to continue believing that he was anything other than a desperate virgin. Especially if he wanted Keith to think he was cool… and maybe also attractive or something.

Lance hurried into his room and flopped face down on his bed. He would spend the rest of the night processing his _maybe_ space crush, and he’d plan mission successfully flirt with Keith, then maybe tomorrow, he could finally be a completely chill, functional, and hopefully suave person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Progress guys.
> 
> Thank you all for the support!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This is my first fic in the fandom, and I haven't written anything at all in SO LONG. This fandom just stole my soul. I've probably read your fic.
> 
> I envision this being 3 chapters. Next chapter is the "experiment," then the resolution. Send me a ;) if you want this to end in smut. Though I may post that as a separate fic to spare innocent minds.
> 
> Thanks again! I'm just happy to finally be contributing to this fandom (and this ship) I love so much!!


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